Would you abort your autistic child?
If you knew your child was going to have autism, would you abort the pregnancy?
I often think about the way that my autistic son will function and be treated out there in the world as he gets older, especially after his mother and I are gone. I assume he’s going to have a pretty difficult time. Life’s hard enough for all of us, right? We all have our struggles, but when parts of your basic functionality like the ability to communicate and express yourself thoroughly are impaired, everything becomes significantly more challenging. That’s to say nothing of the troubling social issues, dramatically underdeveloped literacy skills, and all the rest of what can come with autism. It’s unpredictable and it bleeds into every aspect of life.
At the core of considering this hypothetical idea is the child’s experience and quality of life, but that isn’t the whole story. In my case, there’s not a day that goes by where I’m not painfully aware of autism. I never get to forget about it. Almost everything about my interactions with my son are colored, if not defined by the fact that he has autism. Every conversation I have with him, and every conversation I can’t have with him is a reminder. Every time he’s upset or hurt and can’t explain what the problem is, I’m reminded. Just like when he walks in the door after school and completely ignores me as I greet him. Or when the neighborhood kids knock on my door to tell me for the 836th time, that he’s causing some sort of problem out there in kid land. They want him to go away and stay away, and in driving that point home they occasionally hit or scratch him. It feels like an ominous foreshadowing of what may happen when he’s older, when the people who hit him are much bigger and stronger. I try to manage expectations as best I can, but I’d be lying if I said heartbreak wasn’t among the most common feelings that I experience in relation to my son. Since he isn’t really able to express it to me, I can only imagine how he feels.
“I’d be lying if I said heartbreak wasn’t among the most common feelings that I experience in relation to my son. Since he isn’t really able to express it to me, I can only imagine how he feels.”
I know that some people, especially some on the autism spectrum themselves, will have a knee-jerk reaction to a neurotypical person suggesting something that could be perceived as “We should get rid of autistic people” Obviously, that’s not what I’m saying. You could replace autism with any other condition or situation that’s likely to prove hurtful to your child or even ruin his/her life, and it’s essentially the same. The fact that such an idea even enters my mind comes from the desire to help my son and the frustration and helplessness of not being able to. It’s crushing. I’m aware that many autistic people develop and grow into a very fruitful, satisfying adulthood, just like I’m aware that many others will have a life that is the complete opposite of that. And while my son is only 12 years old currently, I don’t see anything that leads me to believe his developmental trajectory is setting him up for a productive independent life. I desperately hope I’m wrong about that.
There are plenty of difficulties now, but I’m fairly certain that as he gets older and the “Oh isn’t he so cute”-factor is long gone, his life is going to become progressively more hazardous. He’s surely going to cross paths with people out there that see him as an easy victim; someone they can take advantage of. Honestly, he could probably be taken advantage of by accident. He’s simply not equipped with the social skills and understanding that most of us get to take for granted.
Most of the time, I would say yes. If I knew that my future child would be born into this extremely difficult world with an impairment that would likely cause him extreme difficulty, pain, and suffering of all sorts, I think there’s a fair chance that I would choose to abort. I don’t expect many parents of neurotypical children to agree with that position, because it’s simply impossible to relate to the perspective that parenting a special needs child gives you. It’s all hypothetical of course because currently there’s no way to identify autism at such an early stage. But I wouldn’t be surprised to see such technology become a reality in the foreseeable future. When that happens, parents all over the world may be faced with this dilemma.
What would you do?
